


Learning Things I Didn't Want to Know

by russiansimp



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: A very understanding gf, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Bending Tropes, Character Arcs, Firebending, Firebending Teaching, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Sickfic, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles, Suki just wants Sokka to be happy, Toxic Masculinity, Zuko is dumb, hakoda basically adopts Zuko, hakoda is a good father, kinda lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiansimp/pseuds/russiansimp
Summary: Sokka knew the Fire Nation was fucked up. Sokka knew Fire Lord Ozai was a shitty father. He didn't know his opinion about the imperialists could get worse. Until Zuko opened up, at least.
Relationships: Sokka/Suki (Mentioned), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 167
Kudos: 2476





	1. Close to the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> H a d t o g e t t h i s o u t t a m y h e a d

“He hasn’t eaten since he’s gotten here.”

“I don’t care. Let him starve.”

“Katara, this is really unbefitting of you. You’re one of the most compassionate people I know, and—“

“I don’t care. He’s a fucking scumbag, and he can rot for all I care.”

Zuko had been listening to them argue like this for hours. About several little things. Giving him a room, inviting him to the campfire, and now, getting him to eat. Katara had never shown any sign of hospitality to the prince, but… Sokka hadn’t, either, not until now. He wanted to say something — _”I can hear you, you know,” _— but… couldn't. Not tonight. He was too tired.__

And hungry. However, that didn’t matter, it seemed, as Zuko found himself at odds with more pressing discomforts than his growling stomach: The cold. He really didn’t think the cold here would be a problem. The temperatures about the temple stayed around fifteen degrees, though within the confines of the damp, unkempt stone walls of the building, it dropped down to ten. Zuko was often curled up in bed, covered by the one thin blanket he had been provided. He had been shoved in a cooler before to test his bending, but it was for perhaps ten minutes, fifteen if he was quite disappointing that day. But this? This was constant. It was worse than the below zero spurts of torture that had been put through during his childhood. It bit its way down to his bones, making his muscles ache. He racked his brain for anything and everything Uncle had taught him about the Air Nomads and their breathing techniques, but he was still shivering, teeth chattering.

He stared at the fire that flickered meters away, wishing he could just steal a bit of its flame to soak in. However, Katara was adamant about keeping the exiled Prince a considerable distance away from his element. Logically, Zuko knew it was to keep herself and the others safe from some outburst, a last ditch murder attempt; but it only felt like she was trying to kill him in the slowest, most miserable way possible. The chill wouldn’t kill him directly, no, but his body’s panic to push his temperature up past the normal forty degrees of an average firebender would. It left him exhausted, but he’d done his best to hide his vulnerable state from the others.

However, it was hard to ignore when Sokka plopped down half a meter beside him. Zuko jumped, though the motion was slight. “How are you hanging over here, man?” Sokka asked, an obvious attempt to seem opening and friendly. But, in the prince’s paranoid mind, it was little more than an attempt to make him let his guard down. He only hummed, a bit of a grunt, before Sokka shoved a wooden bowl of lukewarm broth into his hands. He was startled to see how desperately Zuko clung to that bowl, seeming to seep the heat from the liquid it held. “Ah, Zuko?”

“I’m fine,” he replied weakly, bringing the bowl to his lips once its contents were cold. He sipped it carefully, only after a gulp thinking to add, “Thank you.” Sokka stared at the Prince as he ate, fairly stirred by his odd behavior. Zuko had never been a docile spirit, gods, he wasn’t even subdued. Whenever he pictured Zuko, he saw something akin to a dragon: powerful, aggressive, hotheaded. Not… whatever the hell he saw before him right now.

“You sure? You’re not looking too well right now, dude.” And… he didn’t. His unscarred eye seemed to be dark and sunken, the sharp gold appearing more of a dusty bronze. Another shiver shot through Zuko’s body, causing him to spill a bit of broth onto the dirt.

“Fine, just cold,” he answered, not caring to speak much past a few words at the moment.

“Cold?” Sokka scoffed, assuming it to be a joke. But when the other’s expression didn’t change, he quieted. “Come sit by the fire.”

“Katara,” he said simply, and Sokka understood. But… he wasn’t cruel. Even to what he knew to be a murderous tyrant.

“No, it’s okay. Come on.” he moved to pull the other up, and it was then that Sokka realized _just how much he was shaking. _He let him lean onto his arm, leading him towards the fire. Katara immediately opened her mouth to argue and berate, but her brother gave her a sharp look that did the trick to shut her up, if only for a moment. Zuko sat beside the fire, at a distance anyone else would consider uncomfortably close. He almost had his feet in the embers, for Spirits’ sake. But, he visibly relaxed, seeping up the heat from the nearby flames. He felt it stick right in his chest, where the sparks of his fire started whenever he bent.__

After five or so minutes, Zuko was finally upright in his usual posture, his eyes closed. Sokka cleared his throat, coughing awkwardly. “Gonna tell us what that was, buddy?” he asked, leaning forward a bit.

“Told you,” Zuko breathed, “I was cold.”

“No, no, I’ve seen cold, you looked like you were dying.” he watched as Zuko scooped up a bit of fire in his palm, letting it extinguish into his skin.

“Firebenders work differently,” he murmured, looking back at Sokka. “We operate at high temperatures.” he held his tongue for a moment, letting out a breath. “It’s a form of torture there, did you know that? Well, torture or teaching. They keep it short, at least, if they want you to live. I gander an hour would kill us. I could only ever last fifteen minutes, but that was during lessons, so they were testing how quick I could get my flames going again,” he rambled. “Guess you could consider it acute torture. I’d take it over some of the other things they come up with.”

Sokka’s brows furrowed, wrinkling the space between him. Spirits, he already had wrinkles? He was hardly eighteen. “Other things… like what?” he asked carefully.

“Sun deprivation,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s already pretty hard to bend at night when you’ve been in the sun all day, but they’ll keep you underground until sundown. If I understand your own culture correctly, I could compare it to waterbending under a new moon. In the dark, or in the absence of enough heat to keep us going, I mean.” he thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “Sometimes they’d have me practice with my chest bound, to restrict my breathing. Breathing is a big part of firebending. I guess it was to make sure you could still bend effectively under pressure. Be that physical, I mean.”

Katara and Sokka looked between each other, and Katara suddenly had a guilty look in her eyes when he made the comparison to new moon bending, considering that maybe she was depriving him of his element… too much. However, Sokka was focused on a wildly different concept:

“So, they torture children?” Sokka asked. “Cause that’s what I’m hearing.”

“I… I wouldn’t say that,” Zuko shrugged, “It’s more like preparing us to bend in difficult situations.” he pushed himself back from the fire, just a bit further than the rest of them sat. “Anyways. I’m fine now, thank you.”

Sokka looked up at Yue, frowning some. He’d often wondered about what a terrible father Ozai must be… well, had been. Silently, Zuko rose to his feet, sensing the palpable tension he had created. He turned to begin back inside; lord, he knew that was a bad idea. But, he felt as if he was warm enough from that short interaction with the fire, which was terribly wrong.

He made his way to his room, wrapping himself in the blanket off of his bed in an attempt to insulate his heat, lying down and curling into a tight ball. And with that small amount of heat, in that short amount of time, he fell asleep easily.

The others stayed up for hours after Zuko had disappeared, and Sokka only came inside when he needed to carry Toph to bed. He set her down on her bed, sighing as he stood up. “Door open or closed?”

“Closed, please,” Toph hummed. “Thanks, now get out.”

“Course,” he groaned, stepping out of the room and carefully closing the door, he spun around on his heel to proceed to his own room around the corner, and was faced by Zuko’s open door. He moved to simply close it for him, but couldn’t help but notice Zuko’s sleeping form was shaking… again. He sat at the door for a moment, ultimately deciding to go back to his room and retrieve one of his sealskin cloaks. He returned to Zuko’s room, quietly approaching him.

After the injuries Toph sustained upon approaching the sleeping prince, he was exceedingly careful while coming near. He silently draped the coat over him, reaching to tuck it about his shoulders. He fully thought he was going to die when Zuko’s hand moved. _Dear spirits, I'm about to die for a good deed. This is how I go. What did I do to deserve that? ___

__But, instead of a defensive whip of flames, Zuko grabbed his wrist. Sokka stared for a moment. He was still asleep. And not firebending him into ash. Good? Maybe? But, when he attempted to tug away, The prince groaned quietly, tightening his grip. His good eye barely opened, only somewhat awake. “Warm… stay.”_ _

_What? ___

“Zuko,” He hissed. “Let me go.”

“Stay,” he mumbled again, tugging him close.

Well, he supposed he didn’t quite have a choice.

So, he sat down, allowing Zuko to tug his arm close.


	2. Mulberry Paper

For once, since Zuko had arrived in the area, he woke up… warm. Warm, wrapped in a blanket like a cocoon, and curled up against… something. More accurately, some _one _, marked by the steady up and down breathing moving his head. He groaned quietly, scooting closer to whomever, tightening his fingers around them. There was a slow heartbeat below his ear, calm and serene, a stark contrast to his own rapidly hammering pulse. He couldn’t hear it, no, he was deaf in that ear, but he could feel it. And that was enough to think about.__

With his shoulder resting on the other’s chest, Zuko fell back into an easy doze, opening his eyes every few moments. What he hadn’t quite noted, were the two impossibly blue eyes staring at the back of his head, the hand resting in his own back. Sokka had been awake for perhaps an hour, having been woken by Aang getting up to meditate. He hadn’t wanted to wake the sleeping prince, half for how peaceful he appeared, but more for the fact that he didn’t want to be roasted alive by a grumpy, half-awake firebender.

He’d been staring at him for a while, now. He was… well, he didn’t want to say pretty. He… fuck. He was pretty. And in the most assholish way possible. It was so effortless—he was asleep, for Yue’s sake— and it was unfair. The way the mulberry paper covering the windows created just the right light, blurry and blown out, that so perfectly cast shadows over his good cheekbone. Cheekbones, might he add, that really reflected his royal lineage. Well, honestly, most of his features did, even in the commoner’s clothes he wore. The sharpness of his jaw, the ever so recognizable nose of the Fire Nation’s royalty. Even that damn scar, made him look (for lack of a better, less puntastic term) hot— and it wasn’t fair. By all accounts, the deformity should be just that: a deformity. Melted flesh, his misshapen eye… but it wasn’t. It was just pretty. Infuriatingly pretty. After a moment of hesitation, he reached to gently run his thumb over the raised scar tissue—

But the prince’s hand stopped the action in its place, his hand catching Sokka’s wrist. “What are you doing?” He rasped out, weakly pushing himself to sit up. He hadn’t comprehended the entire situation that had been keeping him warm, but it was that one action: trying to touch his scar, that snapped him awake.

“Uh,” Sokka stammered, shrugging a bit. “I don’t know.” He really didn’t, but his tanned skin had flushed a deep red. Zuko stared at him for a few moments, still holding his wrist, before realizing that he had been using Sokka as a pillow. He scrambled away from him, hitting his head on the opposite wall. He hissed, reaching to rub the point of impact.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice weak. “In my bed, specifically?”

Sokka coughed, looking away. “I, uh,” he let out a resolute sigh. “You were shivering,” he admitted, shrugging a bit. “And you said I was warm.”

Now, it was Zuko’s turn to flush pink. He felt bad, now, for reacting so vehemently towards the other. “...Oh.” He looked away, head dropping a bit. “Thank you.”

“Uh, no problem, buddy. Let’s… go eat, okay?” He asked. Zuko nodded a bit, not daring to look at the other as he stood up and left. He sighed heavily, rubbing his face and falling back onto the bed. Agni, he hated how comfortable he had been. He hadn’t slept that well in years… probably since he was twelve, if he were honest. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He was too confused to function, his mind zipping through seven or eight topics. Why had Sokka given a shit that he was cold? Why didn’t he leave as soon as he woke? _Why was Zuko disappointed that he had left? ___

Sokka hadn’t been faring much better. Probably worse, if he were honest. He had so enjoyed the little cocoon the two had made, and he had slept so soundly. He could wave it off as his deprivation of human touch over the past few years, but he _knew _it wasn’t that.__

He made his way to Suki’s room.

He rapped on the thin door, not waiting until she answered to slip in. She was sitting on her bed, tightening the lacing on her shoes. She looked up, furrowing her brows. “You look like you just saw a murder,” she observed blankly.

“I mean, I—” he sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. “You know how Zuko was talking about how he was like… freezing? Basically dying? Well, after I put Toph to bed, I walked by and he was shaking like a fucking leaf, Suki. I grabbed my coat to put on him and long story short he pulled me into bed so he could siphon my body heat all night?” He rambled, smacking his face.

Suki only began to laugh, raising her hand to cover her mouth. “Holy shit, are you telling me you cuddled with the Fire Prince?” She snickered.

“Stop laughing!” He whined. “I’m freaking out, Suki!”

“Why?” She hummed, tilting her head. She examined him for a moment, before splitting a big grin. “Cause you _liked it, _didn’t you?”__

“I— no! No. I mean, he was really, really warm, but—” Sokka sighed, looking down. “Listen, I slept really well, but.”

“Yeah?” Suki hummed, pushing herself up. She ruffled his already messy wolftail, smiling some. “Look, I’m not mad. I’m never mad at you. Just think on yourself, talk to me whenever. Yeah?” She hummed. “Now, go get Toph to breakfast before she kills you.”

He sighed, nodding slowly. He took her hand, pulling himself up. “Thanks,” he murmured, offering an awkward smile, before turning on his heel and beginning to Toph’s. He pulled out his hair, gathering it to a smooth ponytail again. He came into the earthbender’s room, clearing his throat. “Up and at em’,” he hummed. “Let me see how your feet are doing.”

Toph groaned, just kicking her covers off to expose her feet. He knelt by the footboard, carefully examining the burns. “Better,” he hummed, grabbing a small pot of some kind of ‘healing mud’ Haru had given them. Sokka thought it was a load of bullshit, but it seemed to at least alleviate the pain. He scooped out a small amount of the green mud, gently smearing it on the soles of her feet.

“Thanks, ponytail,” Toph yawned, sitting up and removing the rest of the covers. “Now, get me fed, peasant.” Sokka only nodded, scooping her up to do just that.


	3. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't heed the tags, major trigger warning for child abuse here. It isn't anything that isn't mentioned in the show, but it's worth a warning.

It had seemed that, as usual, Zuko wouldn't be joining them for breakfast. It was how things had been going since he joined, if he ate, it was forced upon him by Hakoda or Aang. Or Sokka, as of last night. Surprisingly, though, the Fire prince appeared around the cooking fire, albeit outside of the circle. If he was honest, it was because after the warm night, he couldn't stand to be in the cold, dark, damp temple.

Sokka could not, for the life of him, manage to look over to the Prince, and wasn't spared from Suki’s teasing attitude for that fact. He pulled his knees to his chest as he stirred the mucky congee that hung over the fire, glaring at her.

“Hurry up,” Toph whined, leaning back on her hands. “I'm starving. Cook faster.”

“That’s not how cooking works, Toph,” Sokka sighed, holding up a spoonful of the stuff. It was still watery, with hard rice, definitely not something he wanted to consume.

Zuko cleared his throat, sitting up some. “I can get it done, if Katara doesn't care,” he offered. It earned a glare from the water bender, who almost seemed offended that he even thought of speaking. She went to argue, but Aang interrupted her.

“You can cook with your Firebending?” He interjected. “You gotta teach me how to do that.” The prince shrugged, offering an awkward smile.

“I got pretty good at it right after I was banished. Uncle was really picky about the texture of his food, but too lazy to do it himself." He used his foot to push himself up, approaching the campfire, though immediately extinguished it. He cupped the pot in his hands, and after Sokka pulled away, let them burst into flames.

In a minute in a half, he deemed it good, pulling away. “How’s that?” He asked, shaking the flames off of his hands. Sokka carefully scooped up some more, having to grin.

“Now _that _will be useful,” he hummed, gabbing the set of wooden bowls they always used. Zuko beamed at the small bit of praise, moving to take his spot back outside the circle. Sokka served everyone their share of rice, not expecting to see the rather surprised look on the Prince’s face when he was handed some.__

“Why?” Was the simple response, though Zuko made no move to take it.

“Cause… you need to eat? And you cooked it?”

“I didn’t do anything for it.”

“What kind of world do you live in where you need to earn breakfast?” Sokka laughed, though the joke quickly fell flat when Zuko frowned, looking away. Right. The Fire Nation. That was the world where you needed to earn breakfast. “Uh, you cooked it. That’s what you did for it.” In the end, no matter how reluctantly, Zuko took the bowl.

“Nice one, ponytail,” Toph hummed as he sat back down, earning a shove from him. She was right though, it seemed as though he was being an insensitive prick. He went silent, shoving his mouth full of congee.

Just like the night before, Zuko left without a word after he finished, disappearing into his room. He felt at fault for making the meal tense, though he felt at fault for most things, he supposed. He reached into his sack, pulling out seven candles that had seen more than a fair bit of use. The votives were pitted in the center, their wicks black and brittle. He laid them out before him, sitting in a half lotus before them. After letting out a careful breath, he lit them all, closing his eyes.

Meditation was always something he turned to while stressed. The warm flickering of small fires, the smoky scents of bergamot and ylang ylang, the memory of his uncle sitting across from him and murmuring hymns. While the entire experience was plenty comforting, there was always the odd day where he drowned in his own thoughts. He sort of saw them as waking nightmares, as his spiraling thoughts often mirrored the dreams he often had.

Steam rose off of his right cheek as stray tears slipped out of his eye—well, the one that still functioned. He didn't particularly even know what he was thinking about, or how long he'd sat there in a daze, but when he was awoken, the candles were mere puddles of wax at his feet. He gasped a bit, looking back to his door. Hakoda stood against the doorframe, not a particularly odd sight, but startling nonetheless. “You alright? You're steaming.”

Zuko quickly brought his hand to his eye, wiping away any residual tears. “Fine,” he murmured, unfolding his legs. “What did you need, sir?”

“I've already told you, you don't have to call me that,” the chief chuckled, walking into the room to sit beside him. He frowned when Zuko flinched at his mere approach, somsat down a meter or so away. “You sure you're doing okay?”

Hakoda had his fair share of observing upset teenage boys, and he didn't have to see the evaporating tears to see Zuko was upset.

“I am,” he responded quickly, almost defensively. He hadn't let anyone see him cry in five years, since…

“You don't want to talk about it, huh?” He asked, looking at the puddles of solid wax. “You know, before I was transferred to the Boiling Rock, a few of the more spiritual convicts did this every week. But I never got to ask, why seven?”

“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his arm a bit. “Agni’s got seven tongues, for offerings. So it’s just… symbolic, I guess, when you can't give him a real offering.”

“Yeah?” He hummed. “What does he consider a real offering?”

“Oh, it's… kind of like a butter, that you pour into the fire. I guess… it sounds really weird when you say it out loud.”

“No,” Hakoda smiled. “In the Southern Water Tribe, we do stuff like that too. For the Spirit of the Sea, we make a special noodle and let them float into the water.” It drew a small smile from the prince, making him look down. He reached out to gently rest his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, but as soon as it landed, the other violently flinched away. “Sorry.”

Zuko scooted away slightly, shaking his head. “No, I'm sorry. I'm jumpy—”

“With fathers,” Hakoda finished. He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it just as quickly. “Your dad was pretty bad to you, wasn’t he?”

“I deserved it,” Zuko responded quickly. “I was—am I allowed to swear?”

Hakoda scoffed, smiling some. “You're an adult. Say whatever you want.”

“I, uh, I was kind of the fuck up of the family.” He murmured. “Am,” he corrected. Hakoda tilted his head, leaning back to look at him better.

“I disagree. Your sister is a nightmare.”

“She’s perfect, though. My dad always said that she was born lucky, and I was lucky to be born.” He didn't notice the disgusted look that flashed across the other’s face. “She always bended so easily. It was like breathing. I was never like that, I had to sit down and think about it for a long time. I'm better now, though. Uncle says it’s because I'm happier, but I'm not. Not really. I'm angrier, I guess.” He looked up. “Sorry, I'm rambling.”

“No,” Hakoda hummed. “It’s good to talk, you know. Keeping stuff bottled up makes it fester, like dirt in a wound.” He offered a friendly smile. “That how you got your scar? Faulty bending?”

Any semblance of comfort dropped from Zuko’s face. “Uhm, no. I talked back to my dad.”

“...What?”

“He challenged me to a traditional dispute battle, but, like I said, I wasn't good at bending when I was a kid.”

“ _Kid? _How old were you?”__

__“Thirteen. So, when I lost,” he continued, not acknowledging the injury any further, “I was legally required to leave the country. Technically, I should have renounced my title, too, but my father was kind enough to let me keep it.”_ _

The next thing he knew, he was wrapped up in Hadoka’s arms. He went stiff, immediately trying to pull away, but he was kept in place. He never relaxed, but did stop moving. “Zuko,” he began, “That isn't kindness. That isn't normal.”

“It is for me.” After a few seconds, the chief pulled away, slowly standing up. 

“Talk to me if you need to. Please.”

“Don't tell Sokka any of that,” he replied. It was rather strange, how he felt the need to single out Hakoda’s son specifically.

“...I won't.” And he didn't plan to break that trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh yeah so Agni is a very real Hindu deity with seven tongues!
> 
> I know Yue is an allusion to Chang'e so I'm assuming water tribe religion follows ancient Chinese theology, so I chose Mazu to represent La, hence the noodles.


	4. What’s Normal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paternal abuse for Father’s Day!

Since his little expedition with Aang, Zuko spent the days practicing his bending. When the sun was at its highest in the sky, he’d retreat to the outdoor pavilion, and unintentionally create a dazzling display of light. Sokka often found himself distracted enough to watch, but only for the fire. Definitely not for Zuko. Definitely not for the fact that sometimes he’d practice shirtless. Totally.

But, in all honesty, he one-hundred percent watched Zuko during the training. And, aside from a nice little show, he had noticed a few things. One: this guy had _muscles. _Holy shit, was he built. But, after he noticed that, he noticed… he didn’t bend like a firebender. His bending reminded him of...everything. Sometimes he used the smooth motions of water bending, the choppy movements he’d recognized Toph to use, and the acrobatics Aang was so fond of. It was, if he had to admit it, rather impressive.__

Zuko did some sort of backwards flip that Sokka couldn’t name for the life of him, his foot leaving a trail of flames. When he landed, he dragged that same foot in a circle, (which was impressive on its own, how did he not lose his balance spinning on one foot like that?) creating something that reminded him of a wave, but… fire.

He was knocked away from his trance by an elbow in his side. He squawked, cowering away. “Suki!” He whined, rubbing his stomach. “What was that for?”

“You’re staring,” she hummed, an easy smile on her lips. She wiped her mouth off, passing the bowl of water in her hands to Sokka. “I won’t say it isn’t warranted. He’s pretty impressive.”

Sokka didn’t respond, just finishing off the water in the bowl. When the sky darkened ever so slightly from the clouds passing over the sun, Zuko deemed practice time over. He stood straight, bowing before stepping away from the pavilion. That was always something about Zuko that confused him. He had such a reverent respect for his element that he hardly saw in anyone else, _let alone _firebenders.__

The prince was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, partly from the physical exertion, mostly from the heat. Either way, Sokka found it just a tad too attractive. He used the bottom of his tunic to wipe his face, sighing some and approaching the rest of him for his share of water, which he was only allowed due to the fact that Katara was away training Aang.

“That was impressive,” Suki complimented, handing him a portion of water. The Prince gulped it down, still breathing heavily from his practice, and Sokka felt his face heat up as he listened to it.

“Thanks,” Zuko sighed, wiping his mouth when he was done. “Thank you for the water, Suki.”

“You done for the day?” she asked, leaning back on her hands.

“For now,” Zuko hummed. “I don’t love practicing when the sun isn’t out, I guess.” he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, sighing softly. He stayed quiet for some time, but couldn’t ignore Sokka staring at him. He looked over, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah?”

“What?” Sokka asked, sitting up some as he seemed to snap out of it. “Nothing.” Suki grinned some, looking between the two.

“Hey, Zuko, can you go check on Aang and Katara?” She asked. Zuko looked rather nervous, but nodded, pushing himself to stand.

“Let’s hope she doesn't kill me.” The three laughed softly, though the prince’s was forced. He disappeared after a moment, and once he was out of earshot, Suki carefully looked over to Sokka.

“You like him,” she observed bluntly. Sokka went red, furrowing his brows.

“No,” he denied, shaking his head. He knew he was lying, but he didn't even want to admit that to himself, let alone to Suki. It was such a boggling concept to him, not only that his romantic attractions seemed to shift from someone who reciprocated it, to someone who totally didn't. Not to mention, there was the whole… being a boy, thing.

“Sokka,” she murmured, rubbing his shoulder. “I know you. I know how your head works. just... “

“I _don’t _,” he insisted, folding his arms and turning away. Suki sighed softly, only smiling and pulling her knees to her chest.__

“If you decide you do,” she cooed, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s ok. And it’s okay if you decide you don’t. But… keep me in the loop, ok?” She asked, her voice sweet and warm. Sokka nodded, looking down to his hands. She pushed herself up, disappearing inside.

Sokka sat alone for quite a while, not looking at anything in particular, just staring at the skyline. It wasn’t until the Prince reappeared, sopping wet from Katara’s distaste for his interruption, that he began to comprehend things he was looking at. He had to smile a bit at him, watching the steam rise from his skin. “How’d that go?” He asked, leaning back.

“Katara informed me I am not to check on them anymore,” Zuko grumbled, plopping down beside the fire. “If you were wondering.” The steam thickened in his error to dry himself off, basically turning him into a cloud.

“Noted,” Sokka hummed, providing an easy smile, one that just… hadn’t come around Suki mere moments ago. And he was painfully aware of that fact. However, that didn’t change the fact that his mood had lifted rather quickly. He went to playfully hit the other on the shoulder, but froze and frowned when he flinched, holding his arm up defensively. “Woah, hey.”

Zuko was slow to realize the expected impact was never going to come, hesitantly lowering his arms. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Sokka frowned, putting his hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

“Dude… are you okay?” He asked, slow and careful.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sokka frowned. How many times did a kid need to get hit to warrant that kind of reaction? How different was Ozai’s parenting from his ruling? How many times had he raised his hand against this poor boy? “Did… your dad hit you, didn’t he?” He asked.

Zuko scoffed, instinctively making some kind of joke from it. “He did a hell of a lot more than hit me,” he chuckled, but fell silent when Sokka didn’t laugh with him.

“Zuko, That isn’t normal. You know that, right? You’re not supposed to hit your kids.”

“Where you’re from, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Well, did he ever hit your sister?” He countered.

“He didn’t have a reason to.” He said it so nonchalantly, it made Sokka’s heart lurch. “Why do you think I’m the only kid with a scar?”

His eyes widened. “Your _dad _did that?”__

“Who else would?”

“I.. don’t know, I just… assumed you got it in combat, or you gave it to yourself on accident. I don’t know.”

“Nah,” he actually forced out a chuckle. “N-no, it was my father.” Sokka frowned, carefully reaching to brush Zuko’s hair off the left side of his face. He flinched, but didn’t push him away.

“Can… can you even see out of this eye?” He frowned when he shook his head, and he just wanted to cry. He wanted to wrap Zuko up and cry _for _him, cause god knows he couldn’t cry for himself. “Zuko… that’s fucked up. Really, really fucked up.”__

__Zuko shrugged, looking away. “Normal for me.”_ _


	5. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated to this fic, but, who do y’all ship Ty Lee with? I’ve got hella canons for her, and I too am a circus freak, I just want to write about her

“Where’s Zuko?”

Recently enough, Zuko had moved from sitting outside of the dinner circle, rather creating his own little space between Sokka and Hakoda. And generally, he was around early to help get the food ready. But tonight, he was nowhere to be found.

“Who cares?” Katara murmured, which earned rather unsavory glances from her family. Hakoda clicked his tongue, stirring the pot of sweetened miso.

“Sokka, can you go check on him?” He asked calmly, looking over to his son. He nodded wordlessly, pushing himself to stand. He tossed one more glare to his sister before approaching the temple, walking down the dim hallways towards the Prince’s room. He smiled softly when he saw his open door, rapping gently on the wall.

“Hey, you plan to eat?” He asked. Zuko was sitting on his floor at the foot of the bed, his knees pulled against his chest. It wasn't a terribly concerning position to find him in, if only because he often rested like that to write, meditate, even to nap. He stepped into the room, sitting on a corner of the bed beside him.

“Not really feeling too hungry,” Zuko murmured, looking up to Sokka. His good eye seemed puffy, red splotches decorating his face. His hair looked as if he'd been gathering and tugging at it. Sokka frowned, tilting his head some.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” He asked gently, his posture softening significantly.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Just not hungry.”

“Zuko,” he scolded, sliding to sit down on the floor beside him. “I _know _you’ve been crying. You're all red,” he murmured, pushing the Prince’s hair from his face. “Chill out, what happened?”__

Zuko looked down, sighing softly. “I had a nightmare. That’s all,” he insisted. “I'm okay.” Sokka gave him an apologetic smile, carefully and slowly wrapping his arm around him.

“How about I bring your food in? So you can stay here?”

“You don't have to do that, Sokka,” Zuko mumbled, shaking his head.

“Sure I don't. But I'm gonna. I'll be right back, okay?” Before he could protest, Sokka was up and out to grab themselves two bowls of sweet meal. He quietly informed his father about what he was doing, and left without another word.

Zuko looked up when Sokka re-entered, smiling weakly. “Thank you, Sokka,” he murmured, taking the miso when it was placed in his hands. The two ate in a comfortable silence for a while, occasionally catching up each other’s eyes, exchanging small smiles.

“You look good when you smile,” Sokka hummed through a mouthful of porridge, “You should do it more often.”

Zuko nearly choked on his food, covering his mouth as he did. “What?” He asked, genuinely needing a repeat.

“You should smile more often.”

“I don’t have many reasons to,” he said, which was painfully truthful. Sokka tilted his head, furrowing his brows. He set down his own bowl, pulling his feet under himself.

“Zuko,” he murmured, “I know I’ve kinda been subtly throwing this at you, but you had a really fucked up childhood. And your life is still kinda fucked up, I guess. But until the comet, or whatever, you’re safe. For a minute.” He reached to take Zuko’s hands, holding him tight when he flinched. “I know Katara is still being hostile, but you’re a part of our team now, and you sure as hell have reasons to smile.” The prince looked away, redness creeping up from his jaw. “If nothing else, you’ve got some friends now. And not friends that want to assassinate you. For the most part.”

Zuko stayed quiet for a few minutes, looking down. “I don’t know. I’m just used to things being a lot more hostile. I don’t think Katara is helping. She reminds me a little too much of my sister right now.”

“I can get that,” Sokka rubbed his hand with his thumb. “But you gotta realize they’re really different people. Katara can’t even kill animals. I know you’re in hot water right now—” he was interrupted by the prince holding back a laugh, pulling one of his hands away to cover her mouth. It wasn’t even that funny of a (unintentional) pun. But it made him laugh. And that made Sokka happy. He stopped, shaking his head and laughing along with him. Zuko squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “Just… hot water,” he laughed, leaning back some. Sokka grinned, tilting his head.

“See? My impeccable sense of humor is a reason to smile,” he announced proudly, putting his free hand on his hip.

“Your stupid,” He cackled, shaking his head.

“But you love it,” Sokka insisted, leading the giggle-happy prince to rest his head on the other’s shoulder.

Sokka found himself holding the back of his head, still laughing to the point of debilitation. And, honestly, he felt really, _really _special. For fuck’s sake, Zuko flinched when someone touched his shoulder. And here he was, holding him. And at some point, after they had quit laughing, he had wrapped his arms around Sokka’s waist. He smiled some, closing his eyes. It was so oddly peaceful—no background noise, no arguments… just a hug.__

And it didn’t get awkward, like a lot of hugs do. They just sat there for a while, before Sokka finally moved. He didn’t even quite know what he was doing. Before he’d registered it, he had pulled Zuko’s head up, and pressed his lips against his.

It was rather endearing how Zuko heated up, his hands probably leaving red marks on his skin. He pulled back some, smiling a bit. “Don’t light up,” he teased. The prince pulled back quickly, shaking his hands off.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Sokka laughed, shaking his head. He reached up to hold Zuko’s face, placing another short kiss to his lips. After a moment, he gently pushed Sokka away, looking aside. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why not?” He murmured.

“I’m the enemy,” he shrugged, folding his arms. “I’m a shitty person.”

“You’re not,” Sokka frowned, tilting his head. “Not anymore. You were being manipulated, and you know that.”

“Maybe I do,” he shrugged. “You don’t know that. For all you know, I’m lying about everything.”

“You’re not. If you were, I think you would have taken advantage of this already. You wouldn’t have helped me save my dad. You wouldn’t be teaching Aang.” He reached up, taking his face and forcing him to look at him. “You’re not as bad as you think you are, Zuko. I know your family and their followers drilled that into your head, but it isn’t true. You said it yourself, they’re liars.”

“Not all the time,” he mumbled. “They tend to tell the truth about me. They don’t have to… I’m bad enough.”

“Shut up,” Sokka rolled his eyes, forcing him to do so with another kiss. He pulled him closer, eventually just up onto his lap. Zuko whined quietly, seeming to grip onto him as tightly as he could. It was almost saddening, if he was honest. But it gave him the idea that he felt safe in his arms, which… he felt fine about that. When he couldn’t breathe (and he wondered how Zuko could), he moved to just hug him, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Thank you…” Zuko whispered, hiding his face in Sokka’s neck.

“For what?” He laughed, looking up a bit.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just take it, idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SOFT


	6. Confessionals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me a hot minute, y'all. Circus camp has been mmmmmm beating my whole ass and it hurts to type

“You know about the little thing with Sokka and Zuko, right?” Toph asked, leaning back on her hands. Suki looked over to her, furrowing her brows.

“I think so. I had my suspicions, and I told him it was fine. Just to, you know. Keep me updated. Yeah?”

“Well, here’s an update,” Toph hummed, pulling her feet off of the floor, “They’re totally fucking right now.”

Suki had to laugh, if at nothing but her blunt delivery. “I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming,” she admitted. “I felt he was losing his infatuation with me. And to watch them interact… it was so different, than when he talked to me. Flirted with me, even. He was so… sincere. It wasn’t forced, it was just… love.”

“Really pretty picture you’re painting, there,” she murmured, propping her feet up on a rolled blanket. “Just let me know when they stop, I don’t want to see this.”

Due to that little tidbit, Suki took around an hour to go check on the two. Sure enough, they were fast asleep, tangled in each other’s arms beneath the covers. Notably sans any clothing. She rolled her eyes with a soft smile, shutting the door slowly. Zuko groaned at the noise, burrowing his face into Sokka’s chest. He pulled his legs up some, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. Sokka sighed gently, his eyes flicking open with the movement.

“You okay?” He asked sleepily, kissing the top of his head with a sigh. Zuko only responded with a quiet groan, reaching up to rub his good eye. He blinked slowly, shrugging and hugging him tightly. “What’s up, baby?”

“You’ve literally never called anyone baby,” Zuko murmured, pinching his side. “What…” he yawned, “Time is it?”

“Like… four, ish,” he shrugged.

“I gotta go teach Aang,” he muttered, “Before it gets dark.”

“You should both try to bend in the dark sometime,” Sokka hummed, pushing himself up. “You’ll have to do it at some point, I guess.”

“I learned to fight without my flames for a reason,” he shrugged.

“Oh, really? For some reason, I doubt your skills with much else than your bending,” he teased. “What do you use?”

“Dao,” Zuko answered, reaching down to gather up his clothes. “I stole them off of some fire nation guard I killed.” Sokka could practically feel his jaw hit the ground.

“Wait, _killed? _You killed someone?”__

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Zuko hummed nonchalantly. “You’re a war criminal too. You telling me you’ve never killed anyone? Not even in self defense?”

“I— no, I haven't.” Zuko merely shrugged at the sentiment, running a hand through his hair.

“I think I did it more when I was a kid. Mostly in combat. I had to fight sometimes, and father said it was to build my stamina. If I'm honest, I think he just wanted me to die on the field. Or he liked seeing me come home bleeding. Something like that, because Azula never fought. And you know, burning villages comes with plenty of mortalities, but more casualties.” He looked at his hands for a moment. “It’s easier to kill someone in a fire than in a sword fight. To light a house on fire, you don't even need to see the people inside, you don't even need to know who they are. But when you slice someone, let them bleed out, they look you in the eye. You see exactly when they lose their confidence, and exactly when they take their last breath.” His voice was shaky by now. “I always kill with my left hand. Cause when they're on that side, I can't see them. I can't see whatever they're feeling. Most of them didn't even know me, I guess. Just got in my… or, well, Aang’s way. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“...There is _so _much to unpack there, buddy. So I'm gonna start out with the easy one. What do you mean, in Aang’s way?”__

The prince wrung his hands, sighing. “Whenever he’d get captured in the city, I went in and killed whoever did it. I… at the time, I was telling myself it was because I wanted to capture him for myself. But I think, if that was really what I wanted, I would have taken him when I got the chance. And I had plenty of chances. He’d still be restrained, it would have been so easy. But I always just… let him go.”

“I have no idea why he wouldn't tell us that,” Sokka murmured. “He always seemed like he made it out on his own. And he always tells us when he sees you.”

“Probably cause he didn't know it was me,” Zuko laughed weakly. “I mean, he never saw my face. I didn't talk. I didn't bend. How was he supposed to know it was me?” He crawled out of bed, sighing softly. “Anyways. Yeah, I'll bend with him after sundown, at some point.”

☄️

True to his word, instead of showing up to dinner, Zuko and Aang were practicing by nothing but the light of the moon and their own fire. Their voices were muffled enough, the sound of the pluming flames more audible than anything they were saying. The rest of the group ate quietly, without Aang to start chatter.

But, Sokka was the second chattiest of all of them, and he lived up to that. “Hey, you guys remember when people in Ba Sing Se were all trying to capture Aang for ransom?” He asked.

“Don't make me relive that,” Katara sighed. “Yeah, why?”

“He… he never mentioned anything to you guys about having gotten help out of that, right?”

“Cut to the point, ponytail,” Toph snarled, turning her head in his direction. “Your heart is hammering like a fucking blacksmith.”

“Don't swear at the table,” Katara scolded. “...or, cooking fire. I guess.”

“Well, there was someone. Who helped him out, I mean.”

“Don't be weird, Sokka. Aang would tell us if something like that happened. How would you even know?”

“Cause it was Zuko.” He slurped down the remainder of his broth. “He was telling me how he came and got him outta those situations.” He shook his head. “And, yeah. I thought Aang would have told us. But, maybe not, I guess? Maybe he didn't want to talk about someone coming in and slaughtering people to set him free. Maybe it made him feel bad.”

“Talking about me?” Zuko’s voice came from behind him, causing Sokka to jump and yelp. He barely even noticed that they had stopped practicing. He took his bowl from the embers, sitting down beside him. “I wouldn't say I slaughtered them. I made it quick. Well, for most of them.” He could see Aang’s mind fitting the puzzle pieces together, still standing where he had entered the area.

“Wait,” he furrowed his brows. “That was you?” He only received a shrug as an answer. “Why did you help me?”

“I couldn't tell you,” Zuko answered bluntly. “But, it wasn't just to kill people. I only cared about that one Dai Li agent, she had it coming.”

“Why… did you wear the mask?”

“Scar’s pretty identifiable. I knew too many people in the lower ring. I committed a lot more crimes than you'd think, though. Most of it was harmless, just to keep uncle and I alive.”

“Woah woah woah,” Sokka interrupted. “You mean to tell me you were in Ba Sing Se the whole time? And you didn't attack us once?”

“Believe it or not, Uncle and I were just trying to make a normal life. It was nice, actually. To forget about the war, to forget about the fire nation… to just be a kid selling tea. To not feel like a fugitive, or a disappointment. Just working and looting, as normal as that can be.” He closed his eyes, sipping on his broth. “I… even made a few decent friends. I went out with this girl who came into the shop every day, more or less against my will, but it was nice. I worked with this kid named Jet, for a while, he was a pretty decent thief.”

“You knew Jet?” Katara asked, her voice wavering some.

“Knew, being the expletive. He almost killed me when he found out who I am. Haven't seen him since.”

“Because he’s dead,” Sokka finished. “He died in the crystal caverns.” Zuko flinched, a visible stab of guilt hitting him.

“Oh,” was all he could muster. He looked down to his soup, frowning some. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes. “I don't think I've ever made a decision as bad as the one I made that day… it was all too promising. The idea of finally being a decent prince, a decent _son _. To live the life I was supposedly born into. And… it was miserable. It really made me miss being out there with my uncle.” He went silent for a moment, and Sokka could see tears well in his eye. “I just miss my uncle in general.” He tried to blink away the moisture in his eyes, but it only made it run down his cheek. Sokka immediately wrapped his arm around Zuko’s waist, giving an affirming squeeze. Zuko laughed sadly, reaching up to wipe his face. “It’s stupid, I know. It’s my fault I made that decision—”__

“No,” Sokka interrupted, his voice firm. “Your sister is a manipulative little snake who knows how to pull your strings. She knows how to make you weak, and vulnerable, a-and… that was her decision. Not yours.”

“I would like to believe that,” Zuko whispered. “But it was my fault she had strings to pull in the first place.”

“That’s your Dad’s fault, I'd argue,” Hakoda frowned. “He knew there was nothing you wanted more than his love. And he used it like bait. He made you think you could do something to get it, and it drove you crazy. And even when you did what was asked, he still pulled the line.”

Zuko stayed quiet for a few moments. The fire had noticeably died down with his mood. “You know, Father used to always say it was Mother’s fault. That if Mother hadn't loved me, if she hadn't loved the weak, useless one, then everything would be ok. That I would have hardened up eventually, and that Azula wouldn't resent me.” He pressed his lips together. “But, I guess we saw how well that went. He got rid of her too late.”

“Did…” Katara began, her voice soft. “Did he kill her?”

“He told me he banished her. I'd like to believe that. That she has a happy life somewhere away from him. Found someone that loves her, had a daughter who wasn't a psychopath, and a son that wasn't a failure.” He traced his finger around the rim of his wooden bowl, leaving sooty burns. “But maybe it would be better to be dead. Then she wouldn't have to watch what she created spiral into hellfire.” After a bit, the fire extinguished itself completely, leaving the only sound to be Zuko’s quiet crying. “I'm going to go to bed,” he muttered, quietly, that only Sokka heard.

“You'll have nightmares if you go now,” he replied, rubbing his back.

“I'll be fine,” he shook his head, standing up and disappearing inside.


	7. Ember Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really quick filler to push the story forward some. Ngl this is really just a shit ton of projection. I was diagnosed with presociopathy when I was a kid and damn the empathy do be elusive as fuck. Therapy is god y’all

When she was a child, Katara had nightmares nearly every night. Now that Sokka thought about it, he didn't think she had grown out of it until last year. In any case, he was sure he could look at any sleeping person and know whether or not they were having a nightmare. And Zuko? Yeah, Zuko was having a nightmare.

The prince had left plenty of tension at dinner. Sokka and Hakoda knew some of what was happening inside his head, but his rambling at the campfire had left everyone… shocked. Especially when he just got up and left. Sokka had rushed to finish his food, so he could go check on him. He was glad he got in there when he did, because Zuko wasn't quite asleep yet. He had turned down the portrait of his uncle and crawled into bed, his back to the door.

Sokka frowned a little, stepping in. “Zuko?” He asked, tilting his head. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine, I guess,” he lied, letting out a heavy sigh. He turned to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I think I talked too much,” he laughed weakly, balling his fists together. “I need a hug.” Sokka nodded immediately, quickly moving to sit beside him. He held open his arms, watching Zuko crawl into his lap. He wrapped his arms around him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“You never talk too much,” he murmured. “You hardly talk at all. It’s good to get that kind of stuff out…” he encouraged.

“When I took your sister out to find the man who killed your mother…” he mumbled, “She took the rain, and she turned it into a bunch of icy daggers. And when she sent them out, I was sure she was going to kill him. I mean, that's what we were there for, right? But…” he rubbed his face. “The empathy in her face when she stopped, I've never seen that in my life. I've never _felt _that in my life. I want to, and that’s what sucks about it. Uncle tried his best to teach me, but…”__

“Zuko,” Sokka huffed. “It isn't your fault that… you were raised like a sociopath. By a sociopath. With a sociopath. I think, you were taught to just ignore emotions like that. I mean, you were punished at any sign of emotion that your dad didn't like. Of course you’d have a hard time feeling those things.” His voice was soft and comforting, he was doing his best to calm him down.

“I mean, I had mother. I had uncle. They used those…” he sighed. He always figured out how to push the blame back onto himself.

“Zuko, you need to stop pushing all this back onto yourself. Understand that if you do that, you're never gonna progress. Ok?”

“Okay,” he nodded, squeezing his waist. Zuko huffed, looking up at him. “Do you know when we’re heading to Ember Island?”

“As soon as we can figure out somewhere to stay..” Sokka shrugged a bit. “Where we don't have to give names and stuff.”

“I mean…” Zuko sat up. “I've got a place there. It's pretty empty, but it’s big.”

“Wait, for real?”

“...yeah? I mean, if it hasn't been taken by squatters. But, I honestly doubt that.”

“I'll… tell Aang, then. We can leave as soon as he says so.”

☄️

Ever since they had arrived at the summer home, Zuko had this glassy look in his eyes. Sokka told himself that he was searching for, creating an issue that didn't exist. But when Katara brought it up, he considered that it really was there.

“It’s like he’s been in a daze. He hasn't talked to me at all. Please tell me he's been talking to you.”

“He’s been talking to me,” Sokka nodded. “And Aang, but only when they bend. Probably… something about memories. You know how he is with that kind of stuff.” He looked down, sighing gently. Sure, he'd been talking, but not much. A few words before bed, an answer if he asked something. But other than that, he was just… silent.

He had Zuko in his lap late that night, watching him read. He couldn’t decipher any of the intricate characters, or even what way he was reading them. They were written in vertical lines, seeming to be painted by the smallest brush in the world. “What are you reading?” Sokka murmured, kissing his shoulder.

“ _The Spring and Autumn Annals _,” he answered, his voice quiet and… timid, if he was honest.__

“What’s it about?”

“It’s just historical records,” he shrugged. “Fire nation stuff…” it was such a difference than how he’d been that night around the fire, so shut up. Sokka sighed, placing a few kisses to his neck.

“You’re worrying me.”

“Why?” Zuko finally looked up from his scripts, his eyebrow furrowing.

“You've been quiet,” Sokka sighed, rubbing his sides. If he was honest, he was much more panicked than he let on. He got protective of Zuko _really quick _after he opened up, but this was something he couldn't shield him from. He couldn't hide him from his own head.__

“I tend to be,” he responded simply, leaning into his touch.

“Not like this,” he insisted, frowning deeply at the answer.

“I…” he began, slowly closing the bound journal. “I'm just worried. Aang isn't a good firebender by any stretch of the word, and the comet…” he rubbed his face. “Not to mention that I hate this place.” He went quiet for a long moment, seeming to not breathe. “What if Aang loses?”

“He won't. I promise,” Sokka’s voice was firm. He knew affirmation was all he could do right now. That Zuko would mope until this was over. Until his father was dead. He kissed his bad ear, holding him close. “One more day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if you care I started that Ty Lee / Azula fic I mentioned, we'll see how it goes


	8. Aftermath

It was all sort of comical, honestly, listening to Katara talk about the Agni Kai. Apparently, Zuko had been much more worried about a concussion than the fact that he had been shot through with fucking lightning. Kid had bad priorities, apparently. As Sokka and Toph were getting filled in upon what had happened in the Fire Nation since the comet, he noticed the fact that his sister was definitely beyond stressed, dealing with Zuko’s injuries and getting everyone in one place. Not to mention, she was incredibly uncomfortable being checked on by servants and guards.

Once she had managed to talk about everything that was happening, getting word of Aang, and showing them around, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “And… Zuko. He’s in his room, if you need him, but he’s probably sleeping. He’s still kinda sparky, so be careful,” she finished, aiming that last bit at her brother. He laughed softly, nodding a bit.

As Katara lead Toph to her room, Sokka turned on his heel to do presumably what his sister was telling him not to do: go check on Zuko. He kind of forgot he was officially dealing with the heir to the throne until he rounded the corner, where five guards stood at his door. He frowned, stepping forward. Each of them immediately got in a position to bend. “What business do you have here?” The one in the front asked.

“Uhhh,” he raised his brows, putting his hands up. “To see Zuko?” Jeez, how was he supposed to say he just wanted to give the guy a hug?

“Prince Zuko is seeing no visitors other than healers,” the guard stated, matter-of-factly. “Please escort yourself from the premises.”

Spirits. Why did everything have to be so hard in the Fire Nation? “I’m a _friend _,” Sokka insisted. “I’m Katara’s brother, not—”__

The door clicked open behind the circle of guards, the prince having woken from the noise. He stuck his head out, immediately smiling. “Sokka?” He asked, his voice weak. He gently pushed past the guards, running to give him a hug.

Sokka yelped, remnants of electricity tingling on his skin. “Shit, she wasn’t kidding when she said you were still sparky,” he laughed, carefully resting his hands on the other’s lower back. “Are you ok? Katara told me what happened, are you—”

“I’m fine,” Zuko chuckled. “Shut up, let me hug you.” Sokka followed orders, going quiet and allowing him to bury his face in his chest. His robe was half open, to reach the bandages, but man, it gave a nice view. “Come in, it’s cooler,” he hummed, waving him in. Sokka couldn’t help but give a sly smile to the guard as he walked past.

Zuko carefully sat down, patting the space beside him. “I missed you,” he hummed. He sounded so… happy. Genuinely, which was something Sokka didn’t think he’d ever heard in his voice. But at the price of one strike of lightning, everything wrong in Zuko’s life suddenly righted itself. He didn’t have to suffer at the hands of his father or sister, he had his uncle at his side again, and no one had died. His father was no longer a threat, and after so long trying to secure his birthright of the throne, the crown prince was just waiting for his coronation.

“It was three days,” Sokka chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as he plopped down beside him. Three days too long, he agreed, but he loved to poke fun at him.

“I don’t care,” he chuckled, leaning into the affectionate gesture. “You’ve got a lot of hugs to make up for, I hurt _everywhere _.” He gently pulled Sokka’s chin to face him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. They sat like that for a moment, before the prince leaned to push Sokka back onto the bed. Was it because he didn’t want to sit up? Was it because he wanted to be on top? He would never tell. He pulled away, leaning on his chest.__

__“So, should we get you ready for your coronation?”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got any requests for more Zukka? I love these boys


End file.
